Love against Doom
by Sognante
Summary: Tuor s musings on the impending end of Gondolin and the love and fear that bind him to Idril. (settled in Gondolin before its fall)


There was more than just love that tied him together with his precious Idril. That he had always known, and it had strengthened their bond in ways few would be able to comprehend.

For they were aware of the doom. And very few seemed willing to listen. Why, he could not understand. For who was anyone to dismiss the warning of a Vala? And one as wise as Ulmo? From the very first he had seen Him, glorious and terrible to behold, he had believed him. Why were the others so blind?

Death and desolation would fall upon them all. That was what he had known, deep within his gut, since the moment Turgon had refused to do anything, that very first day he stepped foot in Gondolin. And when he had locked his gaze with that of the Princess, so regal and poised, so breathtakingly beautiful, he had seen a mirror of his fears. And those, since then, had only risen in the air like sea-foam, drowningly cold.

They held each other at night, every night, with the same desperation and helplessness. Holding each other as if every second was worth all the precious metals and gems in each of the seven Gates, as if they were waiting to fall to the depths of the earth at any moment.

He looked at Idril, from dawn to dusk, and just counted his blessings. To have her and feel her beside him, inside him, day after day. Not knowing when that was going to be ripped away from him, taken like every single other person that he had ever loved, with violence and malice.

They thought he did not hear them whispering, saying his life as a thrall and a mortal always running from certain death had made him overly suspicious and incapable of enjoying peace, now that he had it at last. But he heard them. And felt pity, instead. And some anger, for they had the chance to save their loved ones, yet did not dare out of pride and denial. What he would not give to have his parents at his side, to be able to save them, to be held by them, to feel their love and know them beyond stories and rumors. To be able to have at his side his foster father Annael, and embrace him, and tell him just how much he loved him.

They were all fools. Yet he envied them their peace. He envied them at night when his duties could not distract him and he looked into Idril`s eyes and saw her terror. When she woke up sweating and half-crazed every other night with a vision of blood and desolation. When he cradled her against him and could not offer her any platitudes, for between them there weren`t lies.

He envied them when Eärendil came and every time he held his son he couldn`t help but think that he would give his life a thousand times over for him, but that wouldn`t be enough if Morgoth`s forces came knocking at their doors. When the three of them were left alone and Tuor put his son between himself and Idril, and they embraced for hours, treasuring every moment.

He knew that their time was limited, that one day he would leave them, his son and his wife, the whole of his world. Yet to have even less time than that one, for the machinations of the enemy and the inaction of Turgon and his people, seemed even more unfair. He couldn`t help but resent him, just a little, even as he loved him, and respected him, and admired him; and was grateful beyond words that he had allowed him to marry his greatest treasure. But he just refused, refused completely to listen, and could not see the treason under his own nose.

So when Idril had shown him a little hauberk too big yet for Eärendil, he had approved. When she told him to recruit people and delve a tunnel in utmost secrecy, he had obeyed. For it seemed that the fate of Gondolin`s people had been left to his wife and himself, and he would try his best. But it was a great burden.

And so when they had tucked Eärendil for the night and it was just the two of them, they would make love with passion and despair in equal measure, dreading the day when the walls would fall upon them, and their home would be ravaged and destroyed. And, afterward, they would just hold each other so tight it hurt, and look into each other's eyes, and memorize every feature and imperfection, as if wanting to steal time from fate, always failing.

Yet keeping the tiniest sliver of hope, that mayhaps, just mayhaps, they would be spared of the fire, and would watch their son grow up, become a man of wisdom and greatness, and hold little grandchildren in their arms. That is what motivated them to fight, this losing battle; to face each day and wake up again, in a clock that kept ticking backward.

Their love and their wisdom, their resilience and their dreams were the only weapons they had against their doom.


End file.
